Defending Apollo
by PlayingtheBone
Summary: If life is a play, than this is a scene. When you want a relationship, and you can't have one, what next? Aquaven. Read and Review please.


Saving Artemis

Life, you know, is a farcical tragicomedy built on poor actors improvising their lines.

For example, at this point in time, the stage is set for a dramatic scene to unfold and unravel, bringing with it the tedious ministrations and strategic placements pointing towards the future.

Setting the mood is the vital first step.

The heavens, in some celestial intuition, are crying morosely in preparation for the forthcoming storm. There is a large open room staring out at an endless oceanic horizon, meticulously furnished with large screens and various technological tools protruding from the walls, as well as a parti-separated kitchen and a circular cluster of chairs comfortably grouped in acknowledgment to the massive flat-screen tv occupying the wall. The shadows of the raindrops course across the scene blearily in large random globules.

Next, the characters:

_Raven Roth_, an attractive, petite young teen bathed in blues and purples, floats by the window, her head almost resting on her chest in what appears to be a nobly resigned pose.

_Garth_, oozing sexuality and discontent, stands erect by her, an arm hesitantly hovering over her shoulders in a touchingly protective statement.

_Victor Stone_, metal clad and dark skinned, slumps on the couch with his chin resting pensively on his hand, the other regretfully hanging between his knees.

_Richard Grayson_, stolid and commanding despite his belittling stature, is glaring unashamedly at the couple stationed by the window, though his gaze is softened by sympathy.

Action!

Garth, Aqualad to his colleagues, gives Raven's shoulders a light squeeze, turning her to face him. He slips his hand up, caressing the barest edge of her neck before nestling in the curve of her chin, tilting it upwards to meet his own in a tensely romantic motion.

"I-I'm sorry it had to end this way," he mumbles emotionally.

Raven's eyes become half lidded momentarily, and he releases her from his grasp, turning slowly to face their audience, participants in that paradoxical frame narrative so debated by the world.

He nods understandingly, saying, "I respect your decision. I know we can't have a relationship. I know it's probably for the best that you guys split us up," even though his melodic voice is pleading them to change their minds.

The stilted silence of the room is composed of the players finding their tongues, delving into the crevices of their brains for a smooth reply.

Cyborg speaks up, the low grate of his voice sounding out the words, "Thanks- I mean, I'm…glad you understand where we're coming from. I really am sorry we did this to you guys, but…" he trails off.

Robin slightly inclines his head in recognition of their statements.

Another silence ensues, guided by the soft ticking of a clock and the hum of a motor.

Garth awkwardly clears his throat, wraps Raven in a swiftly impersonal embrace, and mutters something about "Mas and Menos needing to be watched".

Exit stage left with rushed, but not purposeful, steps.

The scene could quite plausibly stop here, suspended in the statically tragic conclusion of Shakespearian love, another contribution to the heartache and the thousand natural shocks the flesh is heir to. But, as a series of improvisational insights and speeches, it seems eternity. Or, perhaps- it _is_ eternity.

Forging onward.

Raven Roth spins from the position she has held since her interactions with one aquatic vigilante. Her eyes flash at the two males also within the room.

Anger, in particular, is simplest to express in the most eloquent of words.

"Why?" she demands, "Why can we not be together? Is it some crime? Is it _wrong_ to love here? Is there something wrong with a relationship between two mature adults who know their limits and their duties? And by the way, I _don't _think you guys have any of the qualifications to be my parents."

Outburst completed, she suspends one brow, accentuating the bitterly lonely and vaguely eccentric fire of her eyes. To the lack of response, she sighs, disappearing in a violently dramatic burst of black streaks whose remnants puddle on the floor before dissipating to the far-beyond.

Cyborg pulls himself up from his seat with a heavy breath, coming over to Robin and placing a hand gently on his head in a manner slightly patriarchal.

"It's for the best. She'll be fine."

Exit stage left in unison.

And the sky continues sobbing dramatically, for the scene never ends, the curtains never close, the universe never pauses in the perpetual momentum of time and quantum mechanics, but, obeying the laws of the physical realm forges onward towards some unseen goal.

The scene, or at least this one in particular, rearranges itself, the nonexistent camera pans through the window panes into the storm, and focuses sharply on two desperate individuals, drowning in the rain in a tangled violent frenzy. The saga hurtles on, lacking in pretense, stripped of all adornment. Forward we go.

_Didn't turn out exactly as I wanted it, but ah well. Couldn't decide whether to call it "Defending Apollo" or "Saving Artemis"  
_

_Please note: It's supposed to be a farcical, dry humored oneshot. Yes, the first line is adapted from Calvin and Hobbes, yes, I did include an almost-plagiarized Shakespearean quote._

_The title comes from one of the myths about Orion. In it, Orion is the one and only lover of Artemis, goddess of hunting and of maidens, to name a few. Because of his sister's obligations to be a virgin, Apollo tricks her into killing her lover by challenging her to an archery contest, where they shoot at a moving target in the water. Artemis wins and retrieves the prize, only to realize that it was Orion. In a last bid to save him, she sets his body amongst the stars.  
_


End file.
